


The Embrace of Darkness

by Doitsuki



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Altered Mental States, Drabble, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 04:25:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5033656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doitsuki/pseuds/Doitsuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is so warm and comforting, when peace with the Darkness is made.<br/>But when it is your flesh, your body and soul, there is nothing but loneliness and false love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Embrace of Darkness

Angband’s halls hold many a creeping servant as Melkor sits on his throne. Eyes watch him from afar – they do not dare draw close. Unbeknownst to all the lesser creatures, the Dark Lord _knows_. He knows all, he _sees_ all, for this is his dark domain and those deep red eyes miss _nothing_. Only one there is that Melkor would wish at his side forever, and it is the very being he calls with mental force alone.

“My sweet, beautiful Mairon…” Melkor’s arms are open, the drapery of his thick black robes forming a chasm before his body. “Come to me.”

Mairon obeys, his eyes shining orange-gold with lustful promise. His hair holds the glimmer of good health, as does the glowing flesh upon his face… but there is darkness beneath his eyes, and his thin lips curve despite cracking dryness. Melkor sees his beloved about to fall apart before him and lunges with all the strength of his will – there, in shadowed tendrils, Mairon is caught.

“Master…” The Maia’s voice is a deep, smooth whisper so different to Melkor’s own thunderous tone. His head falls back, hair cascading in thick curls to the floor. _It has grown so very long,_ Melkor muses. _Just like mine…_ Alike it is to piles of gold coins, so lustrous and delightful to hold. As his will keeps Mairon close, Melkor’s blackened hands run shaking finger and clawed nail through the glorious strands. Then they are at warm neck and clothed back, pulling Mairon close to his body. His will to hold the Maia at distance snaps, and Mairon comes flying.

“Nh!” Mairon’s face lands in Melkor’s neck, the scent of harsh longing prickling at his nose. _It is strange_ to him, the absence of _pure, smoky lust._ He does not complain however – it is not his place. As the Dark Lord holds him, Mairon feels his bodily form ache. His bones are creaking, their muscular protection all but bruised beyond use by Melkor’s fierce hold. His bones are creaking, their muscular protection all but bruised beyond use by Melkor’s fierce hold. _Yes,_ his mind whispers _. Such raw power and strength._

Melkor knows his servant’s mind and for a moment it pleases him, to know Mairon admires him so. Here is the most terrible, beautiful creature he has ever seen and yet there are thoughts of worship towards the broken old Vala. Tighter he holds him, until Mairon cries. When he looks down, the softness of skin at his collar-marked neck dissipates into the air… as Mairon is no longer there.

“Mairon…?” he murmurs, grasping with will and hand. “I told you… to come…”

He blinks, and the shadows loom. They are the thieves here, yet a thing of his own making. Surrounded, choking, restrained and dead.

Mairon is not in the Void.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in literally 12 minutes after waking up today, pls forgive short length.  
> Melkor hallucinates about Mairon in the void - he forces himself to do so, for stimulation, to prevent himself going mad.  
> Little does he know he's already far beyond redemption. Not even Eru can save him now. D:


End file.
